In Medias Res: The Art of Refusal
If there’s one thing Clarita De Quiroz refuses to be, it’s predictable.

The music industry loves its neatly packaged, easily marketable stars. And Clarita is a disruption. A classically trained pianist who doesn’t stay in her lane, a model who refuses to be just a pretty face, a pop artist who refuses to be manufactured. It’s the kind of artistic defiance that recalls the shape-shifting audacity of Madonna, the classical discipline of Alicia Keys, and the genre-bending confidence of Rosalía.

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Music industry gatekeepers love a script. They’ll tell you that artists must pick a lane, that credibility comes in neat little boxes—classical or pop, musician or model, serious or commercial. Clarita De Quiroz never got that memo. Or maybe she did and set it on fire.

But unlike many artists who reinvent themselves to chase trends, Clarita’s evolution is more survival than strategy. "I have only shown the world 60% of what I can do," she admits, hinting that her most audacious work is still to come. And she isn’t waiting for permission to unleash the other 40%. While some see success as a straight path to fame, for the artist-model, it’s a constant act of rebellion—against industry expectations, against artistic limitations, and sometimes, against herself.

Like Prince defying genre constraints or FKA Twigs bending disciplines, De Quiroz moves through music on her own terms. A classically trained pianist turned charting artist, she’s not here to be anyone’s industry blueprint. "I think people still underestimate me," she says, not with frustration, but with a hint of amusement.

The War Against Self-Doubt

Artists rarely talk about the quiet war that happens behind the curtain—the crushing doubt, the second-guessing, the days when quitting seems easier than creating. De Quiroz doesn’t just acknowledge it; she drags it into the light. Few talk about it with the kind of brutal honesty Clarita does.

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"I doubted myself many, many, many (many, many, many) times," she confesses. "This industry is brutal. It’s competitive, and the talent pool is insane. Now, with digital platforms, artists aren’t just competing with their peers—they’re competing with the whole world."

But if doubt is an enemy, it’s also a driving force. "I had to redefine success," she explains.

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"For me, it’s about making something I love."

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"If others love it too, that’s an absolute bonus. But success isn’t about killing myself to be someone I’m not."

The music industry is obsessed with validation. Clarita has learned the art of self-approval.

Yet, instead of letting the pressure break her, she has learned to weaponize it. "I redefined what I classed as ‘success,’" she says. "I stopped chasing approval and started focusing on creating something I was proud of. When others loved it too, that was an absolute double bonus."

This shift in perspective is rare in an industry that thrives on external validation: Viral moments dictate careers. Clarita has managed to build hers on something far more solid—artistic integrity.

The Genre Lie

Music executives love to box artists into categories. It makes them easier to sell, easier to brand, easier to control. Industry logic says: Pick a genre. Stay in your lane. Sell a brand, not a talent. But Clarita De Quiroz never bought into that system. "Genre boundaries? They don’t exist," she says. "I know artists who dip into everything. Look at Nicole Scherzinger—Pussycat Dolls to opera to musical theatre. No one batted an eye because talent doesn’t need permission."

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Her defiance of genre restrictions is a challenge to an industry that still insists artists must "stay in their lane." But she knows better.

She’s not interested in being digestible. "I’ve been in the industry long enough to know that if you’re versatile, they call you ‘confused.’ If you’re experimental, they call you ‘unfocused.’ Meanwhile, men do it all the time, and it’s just called ‘artistic range.’"

Sex, Image, and the Battle for Credibility

The music industry has always had a complicated relationship with women. Be sexy, but not too sexy. Be talented, but don’t intimidate. Be successful, but stay likable. For De Quiroz, who also has a background in modeling, navigating these contradictions has been a balancing act. "Being a model definitely opened doors," she acknowledges. "But it also made people underestimate me. They assumed I couldn’t possibly be a serious musician, which worked to my advantage," she adds.

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"Proving them wrong was something I enjoyed doing."

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It’s a familiar paradox—women who embrace their image as part of their artistry are often seen as less authentic, while their male counterparts are simply seen as "dynamic entertainers." Clarita, however, refuses to let outdated narratives define her. "I’ve had incredible opportunities, and I’m grateful. But let’s not pretend the industry isn’t still full of biases. If being underestimated means I get to shock people with my music, then fine. I’ll keep doing that."

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Fame vs. The Real World

Most artists dream of playing for stadiums of screaming fans, but Clarita has performed for royalty. The exclusivity of these performances, however, doesn’t alienate her from the everyday listener. "This doesn’t disconnect me at all from ‘regular fans,’" she insists. "Each audience is unique, and I perform differently for each one. The honor of being chosen for these events reminds me that my work matters."

Her career, spanning from pop stages to the most elite of venues, challenges the idea that success has to look a certain way. Some chase a spot on Billboard, others chase Grammys—Clarita De Quiroz chases experiences that feel meaningful.

Sobriety and the Industry’s Ugly Side

The music industry thrives on excess. It has long romanticized self-destruction. The party scene is glamorized, the burnout is dismissed, and destructive behavior is too often written off as the price of genius. Clarita has no interest in playing into that stereotype. Since 2022, she has maintained sobriety—a decision she says was met with mixed reactions.

"I don’t think the industry necessarily glamorizes self-destruction," she clarifies. "But let’s be real, it’s common. The nightlife, the pressures, the need to always be ‘on’—it takes a toll. More artists are choosing wellness now because we’ve seen what happens when we don’t. Amy Winehouse, Avicii… we’ve lost too many brilliant minds to this cycle."

The industry, she argues, isn’t built to protect its artists. "There should be more structures in place, more mental health support. Labels have PR teams and stylists—why don’t they have therapists on staff? Artists create from emotion, but when that emotion is exploited without care, it breaks people."

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Her solution? Make mental health support as accessible as a soundcheck. Not as an afterthought, but as an industry standard. According to her, more support systems in place—mental health professionals should be as common as stylists in this business.

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"It’s time we stop treating artists like machines. We’re human first."

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The Pressure of Staying on Top

With three number-one albums in the UAE, De Quiroz knows what it means to be at the top. But success, she says, is its own kind of trap. "YES! I am feeling it now. With my new Arabic/English album coming out and my first single ‘Wizard’ dropping in May, I am nervous! The world has changed. The industry has changed. It’s a whole new game now."

But what happens if this album doesn’t match the success of her previous ones? She shrugs. "Success is about growth, learning a new language, taking risks. If people love the music, amazing. If not? On to the next."

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"If I don’t top myself, it’s okay. I measure success differently now."

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De Facto: The Artist Who Refuses to be Defined

Clarita De Quiroz’s career is not a straight line. It’s a series of deliberate detours—classical musician turned pop artist, model turned businesswoman, performer turned advocate. Every decision she makes is a rejection of industry norms and an embrace of something deeper: authenticity.

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She’s not here to be safe, to be palatable, to follow the well-trodden path of those before her. She’s here to shake the foundation, to challenge what’s expected, to burn the damn blueprint.

Much like the artists who have dared to defy expectations before her, she knows that success is not about fitting into a mold. It’s about breaking it. And whether she’s performing for royalty, topping charts, or redefining what it means to be an artist in a digital age, one thing is clear: Clarita De Quiroz is not here to be predictable.

She’s here to rewrite the rules.